


Restraints

by Red Dragon (Red_Dragonn)



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Dominant Masochism, Drunk Sex, Light Bondage, Light Masochism, Light Sadism, M/M, Restraints, basically everything is light here, i thiink? i mean they're not totally sober but theyre not wasted, tagging just in case anyway, two doms trying to out dom one another
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 16:36:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15800439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Dragonn/pseuds/Red%20Dragon
Summary: written for prompt five on tfspeedwriting over on tumblr. two hours. unbetad and unedited, as usualYou gotta believe me when I tell you / I said I like it like that (lyrics from "I like it" by Cardi B)





	Restraints

Megatron eyed the wall and its new, er, _addition_ with an air that could only be accurately described as suspicious. “Uh…Impactor?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s this for?”

Impactor raised his optic ridges, entire helm waggling. “They’re restraints. You know. For… you know.”

“Clearly I don’t,” Megatron pointed out, “because I _asked_.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Impactor said, scoffing. He gestured at the very cheap bottle of engex in the corner, sitting on a shelf. “Grab that for me and I’ll explain everything, Megs.”

Megatron huffed. Impactor wasn’t great company when he drank, sometimes. And he was _pushy_. That said, he still wasn’t going to find out anything without doing what the stubborn aft wanted first. “Here.”

Impactor grabbed the bottle and grinned. “Thanks, Megsy.”

Megatron tried not to roll his optics at the nickname and sat back down. “Why do you have restraints bolted to your berth?”

“Uh,” said Impactor, looking surprisingly cagey. “You know. For… stuff.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Megatron pointed out.

“For stuff _in berth_ ,” Impactor said. “You _know_.”

Megatron figured that saying that, no, he didn’t actually know, wouldn’t get him any further than it already had. “So why’d you get them _now?”_

Impactor slammed back his cup of engex. “I figured you might like them.”

Megatron blinked at him. “Uh.”

“You can always tell me if you don’t want to!” Impactor said quickly. 

Megatron gave him a blank look. “You know, I still don’t—”

“Stop giving me _that_ , I can see right through it.” He poured himself another cube of engex. “You want any?”

“Nah,” Megatron said. “Just plain energon for me. Uh. I’m not lying to you?”

“There’s no way,” Impactor said, and chugged this cup, too. Megatron considered taking the bottle of engex away from him entirely. “I mean, you already _told_ me you like when someone holds you down…”

Megatron shot an alarmed look at the restraints again. This sounded like the start to a bad holovid. “You want to _chain me to your berth_ next time we frag?”

“Not if you’re gonna flip out about it, that’s for sure.”

“I’m _not_ ,” Megatron said. “I’m just… uh… a bit surprised?”

Impactor shrugged and chugged at his glass of engex. 

Megatron glanced at the bottle and then figured, well, frag it. “You got a cube for me?”

“Yeah, hang on a sec,” Impactor said, standing up to rummage through his small stack of things. “Here.”

Megatron took the small glass container and poured himself a half cube full. He sipped it slowly. The burn of engex wasn’t exactly his first pick. “So.”

“So?”

“So you think I might enjoy those?”

“Oh. Yeah,” Impactor said. “I mean. You might?”

“And you do know what you’re doing with them, right?”

“Of course,” Impactor said. He sounded vaguely offended by the impression that he didn’t.

“And that’s why you told me to come here, right?”

“Yeah.”

“ _And_ you’re going to let me out when I tell you to. Right?”

Impactor gave Megatron a hurt look. “Of course. Have I ever not stopped when you asked me to?”

“I’ve never done this before,” Megatron pointed out.

“Still.”

“If it makes you feel better,” Impactor says. “I’ll show you a trick for getting out of cuffs beforehand. I’d rather you, you know. Not do that. Because you’ll break them and they’re new. But.”

“You’re definitely going to show me that,” Megatron said flatly. 

“Alright,” Impactor said.

 _Well, if that’s all_ … “Alright. Let’s do it.”

Impactor blinked at him. “Hell yeah.”

* * *

“So you twist this bit here, and yank _hard_ ,” Impactor explained, “and then snap your arms apart, and it should break open.”

“You go after the hinges?” Megatron asked again, just to be sure.

“Yeah.”

“Got it.”

“Good. Blindfold?”

“I would rather not,” Megatron said. 

“Got it,” Impactor said. “Lean back and spread your legs, sweetspark.”

Megatron gave him a look. “Try again, without the nickname.”

Impactor let out a quiet laugh. “Lean back and spread your legs, _Megatron.”_

Megatron didn’t bite back on the grin as he did. Which immediately turned into a grimace. “Throw me some sort of support. I can already feel my back aching.”

Impactor shrugged. “Haven’t got anything that might work.”

“Alright.” Megatron shuffled around until he had his knees folded under his aft and the bottoms of his pedes pressed against a wall. “This work for you?”

“Hm.” Impactor pushed his legs apart a bit further, and then nodded. “Yeah. Perfect.”

Megatron pressed his shoulders against the wall with another grin. “Good.”

“Make sure you tell me if you want me to stop,” Impactor said, and then grinned pointedly and ran a finger, lightly, just the barest hint of a touch, really, against Megatron’s panel. “You gonna open for me, sweetspark?”

“Not if you keep calling me that.”

“Mega _tron_.”

“ _That’s_ the right name,” Megatron said.

“You’re ridiculous,” Impactor said, pressing his fingers a bit more impatiently against Megatron’s panel. 

“You love it.”

“Course I do,” Impactor said. “ _Sweetspark.”_

“If I had my hands free, I would hit you,” Megatron said dryly. 

Impactor laughed. “You would never. I know you too well. You wouldn’t hurt anyone. Come _on,_ Megs.” He drummed his fingers on the panel. The slight stimulation was, uh. Not very stimulating. “Open.”

Megatron gave him an arch look. 

Impactor tapped his fingers again. “Please?”

Megatron opened his panel.

The room wasn’t cold, not really, but the air rushing against his array felt like winter had come early for a moment. Impactor’s fingers slipped against his spike for a second, and Megatron found himself biting back a gasp. Impactor grinned at him. “That wasn’t so hard, was it, sweetspark?”

“I swear that I will _close_ my damn panel if you call me that again, Impactor.”

“Fine,” Impactor said. “Dearspark.”

“I didn’t know there was something worse than sweetspark until now,” Megatron said. “Don’t call me that ever again. I _mean it,_ Impactor.”

Impactor ran a finger up the base of Megatron’s spike, running it along sensitive biolights. “Aww, Megs…”

“ _No_.”

“But then I won’t do _this_ ,” Impactor said, and leaned forwards to lick a stripe up the same lights. Then he pulled his head away, grinning pointedly. 

Megatron nearly swallowed his glossa. “You, uh. We’ve been fragging for too long. You will.”

“I probably will.”

“No dearspark.”

“Fine. Sweetsp—”

“Move your fingers so I don’t cut them off,” Megatron said, and, without waiting for Impactor to move his hand, snapped his panel shut sharply.

“Ow. Frag. _Fine_ ,” Impactor said. “I’ll stop, I’ll stop.” 

“Good,” Megatron said, and opened his panel again.

“I’m pretty sure I’m the one who’s supposed to be saying that?”

“Try and stop me,” Megatron said. 

Impactor got a decidedly sharp look in his optics—

“ _No._ I don’t mean that literally. No gags.”

“Fine,” Impactor said again, and leaned down to swallow Megatron’s spike in one smooth movement.

Megatron choked, hips bucking up of their own accord. His wrists strained against the cuffs. 

Impactor hummed, glossa languidly pressing against Megatron’s spike. Megatron twitched his hips, trying to get some more friction, but instead Impactor just slipped a finger down to press against his valve with a smirk around his mouthful of Megatron. 

“Would you—ah— would you move?” Megatron said. “I’m stuck to a wall, if you hadn’t noticed.”

Impactor hummed again, and pushed his fingers deeper. 

“That’s! Not what I meant,” Megatron managed, bucking his hips a bit harder. “I’d rather not hurt you—”

Impactor laughed, the sound muffled and somewhat wet, and forced a second digit into Megatron’s valve. The combination had him arching back into the wall, pressing his shoulders against it hard enough that he knew he’d have dents later. 

Impactor made sure Megatron met his eyes, and then, slowly, because Impactor just loved to drag things out when they weren’t hiding in a supply closet on ten-klik breaks between shifts, he swallowed again. 

Megatron gritted his teeth, but didn’t manage to catch the whine, low in his throat. “Mm—Impactor. More. I need.”

Impactor flattened his glossa against Megatron’s spike. 

“Impactor, I _need,”_ he gasped out, jerking his hips up again. 

For a moment, Impactor sputtered, then he pulled his head up again just a bit. “Don’t shove yourself down my fragging intake,” he said. “You know what I want.”

“I’m not—aah—I’m not begging you,” Megatron said, as Impactor shoved another finger into his valve. Lubricant squelched around them. 

Impactor licked over the head of Megatron’s spike again. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“Agh—Impactor,” Megatron moaned. “Would you just.”

“Beg.” 

“ _Impactor_.”

“Beg, Megs.” He curled his fingers, blowing a stream of hot air at his spike. “It’s not that hard.”

“ _Fine_ ,” Megatron said. “Please. Just suck my fragging spike properly—”

Impactor pressed his free hand to the top of Megatron’s hips and then descended on his spike with abandon, licking at it like he was the most accomplished spike sucker in Tarn. Megatron’s servos jerked against the cuffs, but Impactor kept his hips held down. Impactor’s other hand twisted inside Megatron’s valve, pressing against sensitive nodes and forcing the channel wider, and Megatron nearly bit clear through his glossa at the feeling. 

“Impactor—I—nhh,” he whined. “More. More. Please. Harder.”

Impactor gave him a dubous look, but obligingly dug his servos into the joints in Megatron’s hip. The pain ran through his entire side, turning the molten pleasure into sparks of electricity where they passed. Megatron’s head slammed back into the wall as he arched his back as hard as he could again.

“Huh,” Impactor said around his mouthful of spike. 

Megatron let out a noise somewhere between a growl and a cry. “Impactor—Impactor, I’m—”

Impactor yanked at the wires in Megatron’s hip again, sending another jolt of fire running through Megatron’s circuits. 

“Impactor, I’m gonna—”

Impactor gave him a _look,_ and bobbed his head again, yanking at Megatron’s hi and curling his fingers all at once, and Megatron overloaded hard enough his vision went solid white for a moment. 

“You still online?” Impactor asked, optics curious, when the sparks cleared out of his vision.

“Uh… yeah.”

“Good,” Impactor said, running a hand across the side of Megatron’s helm. “You still up for more?”

“Yeah,” Megatron said.

“Well great,” Impactor said, sitting up straight. “Here. Move your legs a bit.”

Megatron gave him a flat look. “That’s the least helpful direction I’ve ever heard. Move them _where?_ ”

“Out of the way,” Impactor said vaguely, and pulled himself up fully onto the berth himself, panel already open. “It’s not _that_ hard.”

“It’s vague.”

“Vague is fine,” Impactor said, putting his hands on Megatron’s hips and moving him up himself. “Just—here, hang on,” he said, shuffling around a bit. “Wrap your pedes around my waist.”

“ _Thank_ you,” Megatron said, and did—and then, because he had to one up Impactor _somehow_ , he lowered himself onto Impactor’s spike entirely without prompting. Fast.

Impactor whined and pressed his chest forwards against Megatron’s. 

“Are you going to move this time?” Megatron asked. 

“I— _just_ a moment,” Impactor managed. 

“Mhm,” Megatron said. 

“Oh, frag you,” Impactor said, yanking Megatron’s hips up roughly to give himself a better angle. 

“You _could_ be doing that,” Megatron managed. 

“I,” Impactor said, thrusting somewhat harder than the situation called for, “ _am_.”

“I—well, n- _now_ you are.”

Impactor let out a laugh, pace increasing. Megatron didn’t think he’d last long. He never did, not after Megatron’s charge had gotten him all ramped up first. They’d been fragging long enough that he knew that.

It was still enough to bring Megatron to the brink of another overload himself, and when Impactor came, Megatron went with him. 

#

“So that was alright,” Megatron said, once they’d gotten cleaned up.

“You never told me you liked pain,” Impactor said, in response. 

Megatron paused. “I could have sworn I did.”

“No, you definitely didn’t. Or I would have done something about that,” Impactor said. 

“There’s always next off cycle.”

“There is that,” Impactor said, patting him on the shoulder. “Till next time, mech.”

“Till next time.”

Megatron sighed, stretched, and went out the door. Behind him, he heard it lock. 

He wouldn’t be back until next time.


End file.
